


Composure

by shewhoshallwrite



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Spoilers, if you dont read history books, or finish the show
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-30
Updated: 2015-11-30
Packaged: 2018-05-04 05:23:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5322047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shewhoshallwrite/pseuds/shewhoshallwrite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elizabeth Schuyler Hamilton only lost her composure three times in her life. The first, was when she discovered that Peggy had passed. The second was when she watched Phillip die. The third was when her husband made a careless decision on the morning of July 11.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Composure

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write an Eliza finds out Hamilton did something stupid and deadly one-shot in regards to his duel with Burr. So tada.

Elizabeth Schuyler Hamilton only lost her composure three times in her life. Once, when Peggy passed. The second time was when she watched Phillip die. The third was when she heard of the careless decision that Alexander had made on the morning of July 11. 

She had awoken alone that morning, but thought nothing of it knowing how Alexander was. He had most likely already set off to whatever he determined his task for the day to be. Eliza saw a note on her bedside table, with her name written in Alexander’s quick and somewhat messy penmanship. 

Eliza grabbed the parchment and opened it, reading the scrawl of her husband’s handwriting. Upon reading what his intentions for the day were she felt her heart stop. Eliza was a well-bred woman. She knew that tears were not to be shed. Yet, as she read the letter in front of her she couldn’t help the scream that escaped her throat as she felt hot tears spill down her cheeks.

He would be okay, she thought to herself. Alexander was not a foolish man. Yet, Eliza also recalled how Phillip had repeated to her husband how he had done exactly as his father instructed. He aimed at the sky.

No, based on past experience perhaps Alexander was a foolish man.

She shakily folded the letter stuffing it into the pocket of her dressing robe. She tried to stand on her own two feet and wiped the tears that continued to run down her face.

Eliza went into the hallway to find someone, anyone. When she came across one of the maids that Alexander had hired, foolishly her mind whispered to her, she asked for the young woman to fetch a messenger to send for her sister.

Angelica would be able to convince her that this would all be okay, that Alexander wasn’t going to be as foolish as her every instinct was telling her he was.

Eliza sat in her room waiting until Angelica arrived, trying to distract herself from the thoughts of all the foolish things Alexander had done.

He had slept with other women. He had told their child to aim at the sky. He got into constant political fights. He spent evenings working himself sick until Eliza was able to pry him away from his study.

She wringed his letter in her hands, praying she wasn’t destroying the last piece of her Hamilton.

“Eliza?” Angelica entered the room and looked at the disaster that her sister had become. “Betsy? What is wrong.”

“Oh Angelica,” Eliza felt the tears brimming in her eyes yet again, “My husband has done something truly foolish and I fear that this past eve was the last I shall see of him.”

She began to sob as Angelica sat on the bed next to her. Eliza released her grip on Alexander’s letter so Angelica could look it over. Eliza could hear her sigh as she folded the letter and placed it to the side. 

“Now Betsy. Do not cry.” Angelica pulled out her handkerchief and grabbed Eliza’s chin so she could wipe away her tears. “You have not yet heard other news of Alexander yet, correct?”

Eliza nodded.

“Now why shed tears over a man who may still be breathing amongst us. You did not cry when he released that foolish pamphlet, as such why cry now?”

“Because Angelica, I fear that Alexander may do yet another foolish act. I fear he may make a poor decision and wind up cold in the ground with my child and sister.”

Angelica tsked her sister as she brushed her hair out of her face.

“Now Betsy. Your Alexander has wanted to be in the ground since before the day we met him. Yet, you haven’t been sitting at home wringing your hands every day since. My darling sister, you are much stronger than this and I refuse to allow you to wallow in misery over his poor choices.

“We will wait, and we will see what has become of Alexander. And I shall go with you whatever the news may be.”

Eliza nodded and rested her head on her older sister’s shoulder. Angelica smoothed Eliza’s hair back and was relieved that the younger woman had ceased her tears.

By the time that noon had arrived a young man had arrived at the door with news of Alexander.

“He’s been shot Ma’am,” he had told Angelica. She nodded gravely and asked the messenger of Hamilton’s location.

She went to her sister and had her dress. She reminded the younger Schuyler that she should not shed tears over Alexander, for he was not dead yet.

They went to the Doctor’s house, where they were ushered into a muggy room filled with the stench of rot. Eliza choked back a sob as she saw Alexander lying on a bed with a pallor complexion and his eyes shut. 

“How will he fare?” Angelica asked the doctor.

“The bullet is deep, he has been suffering from fever as a result of infection. Unless a miracle occurs I would suggest you begin to say goodbye.” Angelica nodded as she looked at her sister who was stroking Alexander’s cheek.

Angelica sat on the opposite side of Alexander’s bed side from her sister. It was strange to see the man lay quietly. He was always arguing with someone. The only time he was ever close to silent was when he had a quill in his hand and even then he muttered to himself.

Elizabeth Schuyler Hamilton only lost her composure three times in her life. The third time was as she lay next to her husband on his deathbed, watching him take his final breaths.

Angelica Schuyler Church had never lost her composure in her life. She was not a woman of soft feelings and tears.

Yet, as she watched her beloved sister cry over her husband, who was as a beloved brother to Angelica, she almost came close.


End file.
